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I think this is the sweetest story in the world. I will warn you that it might make your allergies act up and your eyes water a bit. I know it has that impact on me every time I think about it. It is about my mom and dad and I thought I would honor them today and post this:

Do you know what your grandfather looked like as a young man? Would you like to read – in his own words- about the smell of the apple orchard where he met your grandmother? What he felt when he first saw her, the color of her eyes, where they went on their first date? How about his long dangerous voyage from his homeland – how he felt when he stood on the deck of the ship and saw America for the first time? These are the details that slip through our fingers as history is passed from one generation to the next.

My husband disguised it well, but I knew. I had known for the last seven or eight years.

Red was sixty-five and I was forty-seven. We had been married for sixteen years. The eighteen years between us never made a difference. His sense of humor, wit, intelligence, and gift of gab were incomparable, his laughter contagious. He was a knight in shining armor for me and for his family. He had always surpassed me mentally and physically. Until now…